Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Perspective Counts

The backspace button on most keyboards is the width of my thumb times six. I couldn't help but observe this detail, as lately I've been obsessed with the smallness of my digits -- well, my smallness in general. I am very interested in the proportions of my body to the rest of the world. How is it that I can fit into children's clothes?

Actually, I'm more interested in larger statures than my own tiny one. Like, how does one acquire fat on one's wrists and rib cage? How does one feel to be so tall he has to lean over while standing in the basement to avoid banging his head on the ceiling. Such a perspective! Lightbulbs at eye level.

An idle mind apparently wanders to strange, meaningless places in Maui. I blame these deafening waves that surpass the volume of the television even with the windows closed. Holy disorientation, especially because I can't hear traffic here. It's wonderful isolation and solitude. I've lost all concept of city and people, so I don't think about anything external to myself and Maui. That's right. Hakuna Matata, baby. With the view from this condo I have no reason to leave it, espcially given the way I've been feeling. I left to go swimming in the pool of our complex tonight and then after dinner walked with my dad and sister to get ice cream, but only because I was feeling considerably better: the greatest motivator to DO something. Not that I hate staying indoors or anything. I'm a homebody afterall! I felt guilty for staying in for so many days, but I was happy to do it.

Now excuse me, I must prepare for bed. I have a shopping trip tomorrow!

Oh, before I go... I must confess that I have been thinking about more than myself and Maui: I miss Pounce! Since I left Toronto, I've been imagining him in all sorts of situations with me: sitting beside me on the plane, looking out the window and cocking his head at the sight of mountains in Vancouver; barking at crabs on the beach; sitting here with me on the couch. (sigh)

Perhaps this is the same kind of overpreoccupation that compels people to dress up their dogs for Halloween. I turned into one of them in the winter when I dressed Pounce in his snowsuit and rubber boots. Then after his walk, I always undressed him and then swaddled him in a blanket. And I keep saying I don't want kids... My mom, sister and I refer to me as Pounce's "Auntie"! I wonder what kind of souvenir I will end up buying for Pounce during my shopping trip tomorrow...

2 comments :

  1. As one of those tall people (and also a person with fat on my wrists and ribcage) that you expounded on, I have to say, it feels pretty awkward to be tall most of the time.
    Imagine being so much higher than everyone else that normal conversation with a vertically challenged person becomes difficult and uncomfortable because it is tiresome to make eye contact. Imagine trying to fine a romantic partner when every man you meet is shorter than you and you have the urge to pat him on the head in a motherly way because his eyes barely come back neck level. Imagine trying to hug someone you haven't seen in a long time but hesitating because you know you're just going to give them a face full of boob.
    Being tall isn't that great, but when it is great, it's stupendous.

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  2. Since we're opposite ends of the height spectrum, I vote we come up with creative ways to ease the discomfort! I will get some stilts.

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